Broken Dolls

I stare at my broken dolls
That have been saved for me
Kept in a back room
With the dirty laundry

Are these fragmented figures
Representative of me?

Chipped, cracked
Missing a limb or two

They frighten me
Wouldn't they frighten you too?

I played with them
When I was three or four
I loved them to death
But that was before
I got more

I look into their faded eyes
Once bright and clear
Now dull and lackluster
They were at one time so dear

I think I'm broken
As broken as my dolls
Lacking all life
No will at all
To battle any strife

I see the cracks and fissures
Of my soul
It torments me
I don't want to let it be
What's a body to do?

Do I have any glue?


*Allene Angelica*
=^_^=
Sent from my iPad